So Paint it Black and Take it Back
by clarkLover1
Summary: Summary: Peter calls in a favor from someone from both his and Olivia's past for a job that needs to be done. Emma Swan. Emma—just wants to forget the untold truth of her childhood and leave it to rest…crossover fringe/ouat. Angst/drama
1. Prologue

Full summary: Peter calls in a favor from someone from both his and Olivia's past for a job that needs to be done. Emma Swan. Emma—just wants to forget the untold truth of her childhood and leave it to rest. She leaves to finishes the job and be done with the favors to Peter, quietly telling not a soul of her plans. Until a certain pirate finds out about it.

AN: If you don't understand some of it—please PM me and I'll help you through it! Fringe is a very in-depth series for those who don't know! Anything you want to ask please feel free!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own either of Once Upon a Time nor do I own Fringe. Have fun with this one and don't forget to review~

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**SO PAINT IT BLACK AND TAKE IT BACK **

**_Prologue _**

_~March 19, 1986~ _

_~Portland, Maine~ _

Walter stood the social worker as a three year old girl played little mind to the adults. Her attention only being drawn to the toys that where set out in front of her, but her ears trained at them listening silently.

"You just need to fill out some forms," The old lady with a softened face, told him solid like a stone, "but I have to tell you…you could have better chance with another child. This one hasn't talked since she came back from the second home." The woman shook her head, "I don't know what they did, but it must have been horrible enough to send her into a shell. She has no history which we can find, her parentage is a blank…and you came all this way for this one child…why?"

The scientist looked to the child at their feet. Bruises, stood out on creamy skin. The blue and sickly yellow showed themselves out of the young girl's sleeves. "I am telling you that this one will not be touched by me," His attention turned back to the woman next to him, his eyes calculating, "The why is none of your concern." He waved the woman away like she was just a Nat; crouching by the little girl, her curls bouncing as she played, "Well 'ello there, little one."

The little girls attention stood stalk still as her eyes wanders up to the man nervously sizing him up; his eyes turning with a calmly blue as he saw the damage done to the girl. But the little one did not even wince or whine about it. As the girl calculated him he found only what looked like she was ready to face her fate. After a while her eyes found what they were supposed to find, turned to her toys once again. This girl, Walter thought as his eyes watched her play without a word, is intriguing to say the least.

Walter stood up gracefully as he turned with determination, "Well I'll be seeing those papers."

The woman just looked shocked, handing them over without a judgment or care, "I don't know how you did it so quickly, but she's all yours to take." The woman only gave one more flicker of moment to the girl. The girl was no longer playing, her face come to resentment. The women added, "She's no longer our trouble anyhow." Her eyes trained on the girl, which the girl held the women's as well, her words coming through her sea green eyes.

_Yes,_ Walter thought,_ a marvel indeed._

The scientist chuckled softly as the woman growled at the girl. The girl only shrug her small shoulders, a almost hidden smirk laid hidden in her face

"What's her name?" Walter asked, shocked that he hadn't thought this out more. Yet when he say the news about a girl in Maine with no parents to speak of, he jumped at the chance._ I have to lay off the LSD_, he grumbled inside his head.

The woman regained her composure, straightening out her clothes, "Her name?" Her trained of thought still on the brat of a child, "Emma, _Emma Swan_."

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**_AN: I know that it is short-BUT PROMISE THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE LONGER.._**

_Preview of next chapter:_

_Meeting where Peter and Olivia are as well as how Emma and Killian's relationship is going! _

_This should be fun!_

_Also, PLEASE REVIEW...IT MAKES MY DAY AND IT GETS THESE CHAPTERS DONE FASTER FOR YOU!_


	2. Waiting for the End

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own anything

**AN**: I am sorry for making you guys wait so long for the first chapter! hehe...my bad.

**WITHOUT FURTHER ADUE:**

* * *

**SO PAINT IT BLACK AND TAKE IT BACK**

_"I know what it takes to move on,_  
_I know how it feels to lie,_  
_All I wanna do_  
_Is trade this life for something new,_  
_Holding on to what I haven't got"_  
~~_Waiting for the End_ by Linkin Park

**Chapter 1**: _Waiting for the End_

_._

_._

_._

**_March 2014_**

**_28 Years Later_**

_ ._

_._

_._

**_Boston, Mass._**

"Liv, did you find Etta?" Peter yelled upstairs to his wife, "I know she's around here somewhere."

He chuckled to himself, while shaking his head when he heard giggles coming from the stairs and Olivia's mumbles as she shadowed the low muffled giggles from the little girl. Before shrieks could be heard from the little girl where she was hiding; footsteps fell hard on the floor, sounds echoing down to Peter. The pitter-patter of steps had fallen louder as the four-year old girl rounded the corner on top of the stairs.

Peter had a mini-heart attack, "Etta wait—" his feet carrying him over to the bottom just as Etta slipped on a stair, pull-vaulting her into the air where Peters awaiting arms hung. Her curly blond pigtails bouncing around her, "Hey there—speedy Consolas." He whispered to his daughter to calm her fight from the fall.

"Peter!" Olivia's voice rang out in panic of the little girls scream before her footsteps came to the stairs. The sight in front of her halting her where she stood, a sly smile placed on her lips at the scene below.

"She's alright!" He shot at her with his usually toothy grin, before smiling down at Etta, "You missy—need to learn to be better at _sneaking_." He says before he started to tickle the little girl's side. Burst of laughter fell out of her mouth, "S-stop daddy;_ stop_!" Etta wiggled and twisted in his hands.

"Daddy will only stop for those who don't try and run down stairs," Olivia preached to the little girl as she made her way to the pair, "Isn't that right?" She questioned her husband.

"Well, I _do_ believe you are right, Mommy." He slanged back to her, before leaning in to kiss his wife on the lips.

"Ew." Henrietta commented on it, "That's ewwy." Before burying her eyes away from her parents into Peters shoulder.

"Oh no you don't," Olivia said good nurtured to her child. She always loved these moments with Etta…before Peter, Walter and she headed off to deal with the unimaginable and unexplained. She would never exchange these moments for those. Never.

"No!" Etta squealed with excitement and mock-fear.

Olivia's phone rang off in the kitchen freezing the trio in place as it signaled a phone call coming in. She looked at Peter which he knew that this was time to get his father. A new case awaited them.

She raced for the phone all business like. Peter stopped his torments on his daughter to sling her over his shoulders, "Come on Etta—let's get ready for the day." As he huffed up the stair, taking two at a time, "No bath time!" Etta squealed with joy of not having to bathe—yet.

Olivia shook her head at the comment as she answered the call, "_Bishop_." She smirked on the inside at the name. It took a lot of convincing on Peter's part to change it. Though on the inside, she was delighted that he wanted to share it with her—to become a Bishop. They had come a long way in such a short time.

"Bishop," Agent Broyles commanded over the phone. He had that kind of voice, "We have a situation."

"Where?" She answered short, her ears picking up laughter from upstairs. _Seems like Etta wants to play more,_ she mused.

"Downtown. Grab Dr. Bishop and meet me over there." He said shortly then hung up. Agent Broyles wasn't someone who would stay on the phone just to 'chat'; he got down to business quickly and efficiently then hung up. It was how he got where he was in the FBI: Fringe Division.

Peter made his way into the kitchen with Etta still in giggles, over his shoulder—dressed and ready to go, "So?"

"Downtown." She said short to him. They both knew they didn't want Etta to know too much of what they do—in too much details. They wanted her to at least have somewhat an undisturbed childhood—as much as humanly possible in their line of work. She turned her attention to the bundle over his shoulder, "So munchkin—you ready to see your Auntie Astrid?"

* * *

They made it in record time after dropping off Etta with Astrid and picking Walter from his lab which he was staying at for the time being since the last case frightened him so. They had kept Etta away from knowing why Grandpa wasn't in his guest house in the backyard. Both Peter and Olivia thought it would be better for Walter to be close with the family.

"How is little Etta?" Walter asked the parents as they drove through the busy streets of downtown Boston, "she loved it when we went to the carnival." He rambled on, as the others smirked about how Walter's good nature talking was always a good sign.

"She's good, Walter, she's good." Peter answered his father, a smirk on his face. He turned in his seat, "She was asking about you…she kept asking, 'where's grampy?'" he chuckled before looking over to his wife who smiled softly as she drove.

"Really?" He wavered in his rambles, "Well—well, I guess once this situation is all cleared up, we-we could go home." he stated with declaration.

The couple sent knowing glances at one another. They knew that he would do anything that had to do with Etta; he would do in a heartbeat to see the girl smiling brightly at him. When Walter had found out about Olivia's pregnancy, he made sure that she was welcomed into the family properly. And when Walter found out that she was having a baby girl—he went into a mode that rivaled Peters in the area of being protecting.

They found a parking spot once they saw the crime scene up ahead. They gathered their equipment and made their trek to the new horror that was awaiting them ahead.

"So…what do we got?" Olivia asked Agent Broyles as he made his way over to the trio. He stood tall, his bald head shinning in the morning sun.

"What we got is nothing but otherworldly. A person's head gets sliced off his body with no apparent reason—only leaving his head to roll into a crowd of tourists." His hand gesturing to the group of people gathered by a police vehicle.

"Well, you go to love the irony of dramatic displays." Walter piped in, sidestepping Agent Broyles to go farther to the body. Blood spatters were dried on the pavement around the body. The poor guy's head was found by the tail of blood that escaped the man's neck as it rolled. Walter mumbled to himself about different facts and tidbits of the world as he went about his work.

The trio looked on, shaking their heads at Walters's ways, "Anything else?" Olivia inquired from her boss.

"Yes, the woman over there—." Broyles pointed to the group again but signaled out a woman with fluffy red hair, her eyes wildly looking around, "She had the unfortunate event of having the man's head roll onto her foot. Miss Lauren Lubor. Age 21. Also as far as we found…there's no ID on the body, and we aren't getting any hits from finger prints. I'll go talk to her, you two help Dr. Bishop with anything he needs. "

She nodded to him before he walked to the group. She turned to Peter, "Do these cases get any less weird?"

He chuckled, "I seriously hope not. It would make this a lot more boring." They made their way to the headless body where Walter was looking it over, "You find anything?" He asked his father.

"Well…yes. Yes, this cut was clean through the bone. There are no jagged marks around the wound…where's Astro?" Walter asked.

"Walter...she's babysitting Etta. You know this." He told his father, wearily. He knew sometimes his father could circle a drain about things, "And yeah. Of course there would be no jagged marks—there was nobody around the guy." He stated to the scientist. He eyes surveyed the crime scene around, looking for anything that could do it. But he came up with nothing.

Walter simply nodded, "Yes. Yes. That is correct. I—I will need to get the body back to the lab for further analysis."

"Where's the head?" Peter asked Olivia, looking again for it, "Has anyone seen a head?" He asked louder to the mix of FBI and police officers.

"There." Olivia stated, pointing just over Walters shoulder.

Peter nodded, then made his way over to it. Once he got to it he crouched down over it. The guy's eyes were still frozen in the state of terror and shock, blood—long dried has around the sever point and in the John Doe's mouth. As he looked at it more, Peter's eyes widened a little more. _I can't believe this_, he thought astounded. He chuckled, "Olivia!"

She made her way over to him once she made sure that Walter was in the back of the medical examiners vehicle safely. She asked him what the matter was; for his mouth was shocked with a lopsided smile, "what?" she repeated, thinking that Peter had definitely lost his mind.

He chuckled like a man that made money on the potluck. Maybe he did. He straightens up for his crouched position, "I _know_ this guy."

"What one of your weird connections?" Olivia shot back at him.

"No, but they are somehow always a _little _weird." He smirked, remembering their last time they had this conversations a couple of years ago. God, was it only a couple of years, Peter thought, it felt like a lifetime.

She smirked as well, telling him that she remembered that conversation as well.

"His name is Robert Jenson, he was on the run, and skipped out on bail. He was supposed to be in jail but the woman never really caught him—thank to my-oh so wonderful life before…." His eyes light with the memory of it.

"Do you think she'll help us? She must have known what he was running from." She asked.

"Ohh," He chuckled lightly, "the last time we saw each other…it didn't end up so well." His hand raked through his dark hair, "but she does owe me a _favor_."

* * *

**StoryBrooke, Maine**

"_Jones._" Emma's eyes slanting across the table to the pirate as he slid into the booth.

She was having a nice morning so far. The light was shining, and the birds where singing—nobody was trying to kill her family or cast another curse on the town…so it was going to be a good day. She had no problems so far in Storybrooke since coming back from Neverland so many months or so. Who can really tell with this small towns longing days? She had effectively dodged Neal for two weeks now since he came back. It's not that she was glad that he was…_alive_—she was just starting something with a now non-handless more than handsome pirate (the hand was a gift of peace from Gold). He came back expecting that they would be together, since the 'I love you' exchange. But she doesn't know if he was what she wanted anymore.

Which brings this conundrum to light, can't you see it?

She was ready to pull her hair out of her head, staying up late from going back and forth between the two—what both of them mean to her, what each of them are to her.

"Well hello, love." The Captain's Irish lilt blew to her. She had to tell herself to get under control as shivers tried to crawl their way up her back. He was still wearing his goddam pirate outfit, stating that it fit his personality better. HIS PERSONALITY.

Which is totally true, for it does work wonders for him.

"Shouldn't you be, you know, thieving or pillaging?" She shot back at him.

Killian broke out in a smile by her comeback at him. He liked to ruffle her feathers, and get under her skin—which to him wasn't that hard to do, apparently. He was nervous. Nervous of having Baelfire back in his Swans life. Of course if she would say one word about being together with Bae, he would step aside. Yet, he had saw her avoid him with expertise that made him proud and told him she probably didn't feel that much anymore for the boy, "Oh come on love, that's hurtful." He pouted to her.

She laughed bluntly at his overreacting self, "Okkaayyy…then shouldn't you be looking for a woman to go to bed with?" Her gut wrenched at the thought of him being with another other than her, but she clamped it down tight making sure that it didn't show on her face.

"Yes I did that; but she's been too busy avoiding people as of late." He stared right into her eyes so she can't mistake it for anyone else.

"Killian," she broke down, "I—" Her phone vibrated on the table, which she sighed inwardly ass her silent prayer being answered. Her eyes floated back to the brilliant blues she already lost herself to once before-, "I have to take this…so…"

But Killian had no intentions of moving until she had a real conversation with him. He missed their talks—their late night stargazing—late night love making—, "I'm not leaving, love."

She looked around the small diner—her eyes searching for someone to come to her rescue. Seeing no one she sighed in defeat feeling Killian's smile in triumph against her skin, "Fine," she answered her phone, "_Swan_." She stated sternly, feeling her anger boil (and something else) over as Killian's leg rubbed against hers underneath the table. She turned away from his taunting gaze to watch Storybrooke folks go about their day through the glass window.

_"Is that really anyway to speak to an old friend?"_ Peter's voice rang out.

Emma froze in place and Killian got worried that something must have happened to her family, but he hoped to God it wasn't, "What do you _want_?" Emma knew she should have checked the number before answering, it always ended up like this. She felt Killian's worried eyes on her, but she waved them away.

"_I need to cash in my favor_."

"Okay." She had to keep the conversation short, she didn't need anyone to start looking at her weird. Especially Killian.

"_You remember Robert Jenson?"_ He questioned.

"_Yes_." She answered through clenched teeth. He remembered him well, the slimy fuck got through her fingers. With the help of the one and only: PETER BISHOP.

"_Well he's dead. His head got sliced off clear by something that look invisible_."

"Okay. That's all good and dandy—but why does this matter to me?" She asked as Ruby came out of nowhere and place a hot chocolate with cinnamon in front of her. She smile ruefully at the woman for not coming her minute of help. Ruby only smirked, knowing.

"_I need your help. That's my favor."_

Emma took a sip, contemplating what she should say to this, "I'm no longer a bails person, Bishop," She says as Killian's eyebrow quirk up which she ignored painfully, "So get to the point."

"_You help us with this…I won't ever bother you again. K Em_?" Peter descaled out.

She bit her lip, mowing it over, "Okay. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"_K you—"_

She hung up before he could say another sentence. Emma rubbed her temple, feeling a headache brewing there, "I have to go." She states throwing down some money for her hot chocolate, mading her way out of the booth.

"We aren't _finished_ here, love." Killian began to argue with her. She wasn't going to escape so easily from him. Not went she was this close to him.

"Okay. So bother me when I'm off duty, "She states, not even looking behind her, "I got something to take care of till then."

"_Fine_, love. BUT WE WILL TALK ABOUT THIS!" He yelled after her.


	3. All the Rowboats

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own anything

**AN:** For those who don't know, I will be updating this story with previews of my other story inside of it;) Its going to get good

* * *

**SO PAINT IT BLACK AND TAKE IT BACK**

_"They keep trying to row away_

_And the captains' worried faces_

_Stay contorted and staring at the waves."_

All the Rowboats_ by _**Regina Spektor**

**Chapter 2:**_ All the Rowboats_

**.**

**.**

**.**

**StoryBrooke, Maine**

Killian made his way to Emma's apartment without any troubles of running into anyone. He didn't need folks in this town to think of things in the worst kind of way or situation. He hummed a tune as he made his way up the inner stairs of the building. He knew that her parents had moved out of the place, leaving it to Emma. They thought it would be best so she didn't end up coming in with them in the middle of—_something_. It made him shudder at thought of being the one that caught them in the middle of something.._.again_.

They were going to get to the bottom of what they were—even if he had to pry it out of her. Hopefully—she was alone so it won't just add to her diversion of avoiding him as of late. Or worse—Neal was with her, but he shook himself out of those twisting thoughts that raged like a bitch of storm inside his mind. He wanted her that part was true, but he wanted her to admit that she felt the same way as him...even though he already knew that. The first time they had sex was on his ship, ans so was the second...which lead to the third. After that, she told them they couldn't do it anymore...it was right about the same time Bae walked back into their lives; mostly Emma's-which pissed him off more than he would actually admit to anyone but his Swan.

He knocked quietly on the door of her apartment after a calming breath. His stomach turned with the uneasy forewarning that something happened to his Swan since she had left to take care of something for a citizen of the town. He was trying to shake it off but it was not going so well so far.

The door opened, much to his relief yet it wasn't his Swan that had answered but no other person than her son Henry, "Hey Captain!" The boy exclaimed to Killian. In such short months, the boy did shoot right up almost surprising Killian with this height.

"Well hello there lad," Killian replied warmly. The boy always reminded him of Emma by his little quirks, "May I come in?" He asked as his eyebrow rose in an underlining question. It was usually Emma that answers the door, and rarely does she let Henry get it for her these days.

Henry stepped back to let the Captain in. As he past the boy Killian ruffed his hair playfully to which the boy replied with a startled squeal. Killian just chuckled, "Well lad, where's your mum?"

The boy just pouted in a way that made the pirates heart seized with remembrance of Emma tweaking through the boy, "She's not here. I haven't seen her since she went to the diner this morning where you intercepted her to annoy her." The boy replied with a knowing smile, "Most people would call that stalking these days."

"Oh lad, you wound me," Killian's lip twitched with a smile as his eyes twinkled with his fondness for the boy, "It's more of a…reassurance thing..."

The boy only hummed in agreement, "I'll try her on her cell." The boy ran off to call his mother, but once dialed the number a song rang from Emma's bedroom. The pirate went to investigate as Henry stood frozen in place; his heart dropping in his chest of what could had happened to his precious Swan. _Anything but her_, he thought as he went into the bedroom, but the place was still; no body's or any sight of his Swan.

He sighed heavily, collapsing on to the side of the bed.

"Henry call Emma's parents!" He yelled to the reanimating lad that was in the other room. Then he sighed besides himself from where he sat on the bed, holding her cellphone as if it would give the Captain answers as to her whereabouts.

* * *

_March 19, 1986_

Emma watched to world pass her back outside her window. She had been silent since the man had come to take her home with him—where ever it was. She can't believe that she's going home once again with a man she hardly knew anything about. _Money talks apparently in this society,_ she thought to herself.

Her bruises hurt. More than hurt, they ached in some spots when her fingers graced over them. She was itching to ask where they were going but she knew that it could lead to trouble. Although she can see that he won't hit her; there always is a chance of it that she was not willing to take. Not yet, with the bruise still painted on her skin and memories of her other foster father.

"Are you alright dear?" Walter asked the girl. He viewed into the back from the rearview mirror to little girl. _Emma_—was her name, she was lost in thought looking out the window for basically the whole ride. It seemed to him that the girl was not interested in talking. He thought she was just shy around more than one person, but the girl kept surprising him more and more, "We are almost there." Hoping to get a raise of a response from the girl.

Emma just nodded her head to the statement.

Walter chuckled, "It's alright dear, to talk to me. I know you can do it."

"Alright, sir." Emma answered short, fast and efficiently to Walter that made him think that it was drilled into her as a response mechanism.

"Well," He didn't know what to say to it, "I have a son," He said, unsure of how Emma would take it, "He's a little bit older than you are, but I do believe that you will get along quite well." He smiled back at the girl.

Emma took the smile and gave a warming one back at Walter. Somehow and someway, that small smile crawled into his heart and warmed to center of it. He knew that when the girl is in his possession no harm will come it her; that he can guarantee. Until it needed to be done.

...

They made their way up the driveway in silence as the grumble of gravel crushed under the tire before the car rolled to a halt. The house was beautiful brown stone, amongst evergreen trees. The door hidden in the cove next to the garage. The windows were covered with a light color curtain giving the house a nice touch of female. The sun peaked around afternoon, its beams straying through the trees above them.

"We're here, dear." Walter told the girl in the back, He knew from all the things they went through with the trials—they have never come across a childhood who was this polite and unresponsive than that of Emma Swan. He knew that it could work out in his favor someday. He had found out just what needs to be down to make the Cortexiphan work inside of the children. It's going to be great.

They slowly get out of the car before making their way to the house, Walter having a firm hand on Emma shoulders to comfort her but it to the little girl, it felt weird. Like the good kind, and not the time when—she breathed a sigh, watching to door come into view. She tried to keep calm but deep down she was nervous of what was to come. What kind of family would this be to her? Would they even like her? But most important of above all the rest…would they hurt her?

The door opened giving away to a beautiful woman. Her soft brown curls bounced around her shoulders as her mouth lit up with a prefect smile, "Welcome, my name is Elizabeth." Her voice spoke of hint of her homeland England as she looked down at the beautiful young girl. Her eyes trailed over the bruising on the girls' neck, sensing trouble.

Emma liked her already, her body warming with her accent, "Good afternoon, ma'am. My name is Emma Swan." She replied, her eyes falling to the floor, just like her foster father had told her.

Elizabeth's eyes shot from the little girl to her husband for the inquiring questioned she couldn't speak out loud. Walter gave her a look back that he will explain all of it when they were alone, so she turned her attention back to the girl, "Well," still taken back by the girl politeness, "that's a beautiful name."

Emma's head slapped up as if a rubber band striking back into place, "Thank you!" She exclaimed with a wide smile matching brightly light eyes before coming into herself, and turned her behavior like an on and off switch. To Walter it was amazing to watch such a little girl learn to that in such a short life.

But Elizabeth just laughed lightly trying to take the tension she was feeling in the moment, "Well, wouldn't you come inside?" she asked the polite girl, turning a little ways to let her into the house, "Peter, our son, is up in his room. But I'm sure he would love to me you." she said as she began to shut the door. _This was going to be interesting to watch this girl_, Elizabeth thought,_ she's seems like she needs a good home. _

* * *

**Boston, Massachusetts**

Emma strolled up to the white brick house on fumes. She cannot believe he pulled a favor out of his ass. After what they had done to her? Ha. It was laughable. it was laughable after what his father had done—ha. Totally laughable, to even _think_ she would help him with anything. A case—a goddam fucking case with Robert Jenson being—well something dead. He didn't really explain much on the phone—nor did she let him. Not when firkin' Killian Jones sat right in front of her. She sighed, she was going to get this done quickly, and finish—whatever Jones was getting at in the dinner. They had nothing—well…except those couple night on his ship…but those were a moment of weakness…weren't they? Along with their most ungodly flirting conversation that made her mom queasy on the inside, by just watching them-but she doesn't want to think of that now.

The birds sung around her annoyed her with their too much cheerfulness as she walked up the sidewalk to the house. It was not a good day to her—no not even close. Peter Bishop had called her to help him with a case. Again. _God, why did things have to suck? _She thought angrily. She rubbed her temple for a headache had started pounding itself into her skull as soon as she left the town.

She hated her life for in these kinds of moments.

Emma knocked on the door, as she turned to scan the street and neighborhood. Brightly colored flower littered the lawns, precisely. Houses were prefect and aligned with one another. The perfect, picture neighborhood. _Bishop has definitely traded up,_ she thought impressed.

The door creaked open behind her, "Hey Ems. Long time, no see" Peter Bishop awkwardly welcomed her. She didn't want it. Nor did she need it.

"It's Emma." She shot back with heat as she turned back to the man. He definitely gotten older, "wow, look at you…living the suburban life. Here I didn't think you had it in you." She shot at him before giving him a small smile, "but in some…strange reason…a small part of me-and I mean small thinks it's good to see you again." She added to lower her remark hit. She wanted to hurt him, yes; but she wasn't that cold to not at least soften the blow.

He just chuckled at her to which she flinched unconsciously but was not seen by Peter, "Well, it's always good to see you, Emma. Please come inside," He added seriously, "there's lot to discuss right now with you."

"Oh if this about that time in Reno, totally don't want to know what you were doing when I crashed in," she commented as she pushed passed him into his house with intimation.

He just shook his head, and slowly shut the door.

"Liv's at the lab already, but I wanted to talk to you alone, first." He called after her faulting footsteps, "How did you know where we lived?" he questioned in an after thought, as he followed her into his kitchen.

"If you wanted to keep it undiscovered...you should've not gotten a home phone." She taunted back.

* * *

**StoryBrooke, Maine**

After they searched high and low for Emma they regrouped in the apartment empty handed. They sat silently pondering where she had gone, in the kitchen with hot chocolate cooling by each of their elbows. The clock ticked away in the background, echoing through the apartment. They couldn't believe that she wasn't in town. They knew that she didn't get kidnapped or that she left town for good—for her baby blanket was still in her room. She would never leave without it if she did.

Killian was freaking internally as he kept his cool on the outside. His Swan was missing and he was the last person to speak with her—maybe even see her. Then it hit him with startling realization, "Wait—Swan was talking to a man on the phone when I went to—," He paused trying to find a word that wouldn't be too inappropriate for the boy and not have him knocked out by Charming for being too player, "_talk_ with her. She sounded as though she was not thrilled to be talking to the person on the other side." Even though the words felt wrong in his mouth, he saw understanding filter over Emma's parents' faces. This world's lingo confusing him still for the most part.

The Prince nodded his head, "Okay—so do you know who it was?" he asked, full parental mode activated. His daughter was missing which put him on the edge of attack mode.

"If I knew who, she would've been found," he seethed back to the man. He reined his anger a little bit, sensing that this was not a place nor time to point fingers, "I don't know. _But_ it seemed to be someone that she knows on a more personal level." He thought out loud.

Henry shot out of his seat, "Neal?"

The name twisted Killian's gut, "No. It didn't seem that way." He explained to the boy, "she would've have just hung up on him."

"Why?"

_Oh, this was going to get a bit thick_, he thought; sending the couple a slanted look for help which they replied with questioning glares. He sighed, "Your mum is…avoiding him. And me. That's why I went to go talk to her this mornin'."

"Don't you mean corner?" David shot into the conversation.

The pirate only turned to the prince, "Yes, well," he agreed slyly with a soft chuckle, "it is the only way for her to talk to someone about things these days—or haven't you noticed?" he retorted back to them. He had watched them from afar not picking up on easy hints of discomfort and bottling up from their very own daughter right underneath their noses.

The two both shifted uncomfortably on their feet from the change of subject. Maybe they had noticed, but choose to ignore it thinking that it was nothing and would change.

Henry cleared his throat to disrupt the tension in the room and to bring all the attention to center on him, "Maybe we could look through her recent phone calls to see." He suggested to the group before taking off and getting her phone, "says here…" Henry states not finishing his statement as his eyes freezes on the numbers.

"What is it, lad?" Killian questions as he goes to the boy.

"It's a Boston number. Who is Peter Bishop?" the boy questioned the air.

The pirate's heart clenched hard in his chest. She was with another man? Ohh—he was not going to stand for it. The little ferment will have to fight him for her, "I don't know." He is determined now that he had a name. He wasn't going to stop until he gotten his Swan back from this—Boston place—to where she belongs, "But I am going to find out." He states, turning back to the King and Queen, "I'll find her. With your permission; let me go, and I'll bring her back." The couple just nodded their head silently afraid to speak.

"Oh… I'll come with!" Henry exclaimed at the first thought of an adventure again with the Captain Hook.

Killian smirked at the boy tenacity, but then shook his head, "No, lad. Your mother would kill me if I did. I'll go." He states before setting his eyes on her mother, "I'll bring her back kicking and hollering if need be." She only nodded knowing he was telling the truth in that.

Once he nodded his head towards David in acknowledgement; he left the apartment with a goal in mind his each step powerful than the next. To get his Swan back if it was the last thing he does. _She won't know what hit her_, he thought darkly, _she'll pay for leaving him without foretelling him._

"Wait!" A voice rang out from behind him, halting him in his tracks on the sidewalk, "take this," Henry handed over a cellphone to him, "to keep in touch with us."

"Don't worry lad. I'll find her...and I'll bring her back." With that said to the worried boy and a patted of reassurance on the boys shoulder, he turned in search of transportation to get him where he needed to go.

"Oh I have no doubt about that Captain," Henry smirked into the wind once the pirate was just a dark spot and too far away to here, "for you're her True Love."

* * *

**AN**: So good, right?

**BIG THANKS:** kendra2608, ChamberlinofMusic** FOR REVIEWING!**

**DON'T FORGET TO READ AND REVIEW!**

**Preview of the next chapter of**:_ Kiss My Gentle Burning Bruise_:

_"Emma what's this?" Killian pointed over her shoulder to what was behind her. She knew it was bad if his voice traced with a small hint of jealously. _

_Her eyes trailed with his hand, "uhh," she had no idea what to say to change this around. An angry Killian was never a good thing, "It's...not what it looks like?" she tried._

_..._

_He watched as the boy crossed the street to the diner with hatred. He knew that sending them away was his only chance at revenge. He just had to bide his time until then to set his plan into motion. For now, he could just collect as much information on the boys habits till he could move to the next step._


	4. The Eyes of Tomorrow

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything

**AN**: Don't forget to check out Kiss My Gentle Burning Bruise to not miss out on an epic tale!

**WITHOUT FURTHER ADUE:**

* * *

**SO PAINT IT BLACK AND TAKE IT BACK**

_"So why do you take this,  
_

_Conquer and dismay this,_

_Peaceful sanity of mine?_

_Your attempting to bore me, _

_Shatter and destroy me._

_It's worthless,_

_It furls my gain._

_Maybe we're all insane?"_

The Eyes of Tomorrow by **Broken Iris**

**.**

**Chapter 3**: _The Eyes of Tomorrow_

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Boston, Massachusetts**

Peter sat crossed from Emma as they watched each other for a couple of moments. It had been a couple of years since they had seen each other last. Both going their separate ways once they had enough of the others presence. He couldn't believe that she was in front of him now. The last time they were together he—didn't really leave their relationship in good terms. Not that whatever they were had ever been on the good side of things.

"So" Emma stated to the air, collapsing the rooms fluidity.

"So," He also replied, eyes never wavering from hers. He could see the change in them…more now than ever. He could see the walls thick; yet…could see a weaker spot that was beginning to shatter from—something. That's good, he thought confidently, someone's getting through to her…somehow, "how are you?" He questioned when he saw that she wasn't going to move on the front of conversing with him.

"Seriously? That's what you ask me?" she accused him.

It was a lame excuse of conversation starters but Peter just smiled at the woman, "Well, I have more time dealing with criminals and witnesses then _friends_." He shook his head.

"We're _not_ friends, Peter," She tilted her head while her eyes trained on his face, "We _never _were." She spat the words out like it was poison in her mouth.

"That's right," Peter sighed and just nodded along to her statement, "We're _not_ friends. We _are_ technically brother _and_ sister." _There, I said it_, he thought, _just doesn't feel like it after what I put her through._

Emma's chest tightened at the thought of the Bishop family, "_No_," her voice wavered but held strong to her will power, "we're _not_." They couldn't be, not anymore.

"_Yes_. Walter," He avoided her eyes, looking down at the cup surrounded by his hands. He chuckled at the news he had found out when he had finished calling her this morning, "seemed to have forgotten to," he scratched the back of his ear, nervous of how to approach the subject, "mention that part. He had wanted you to join the family—in fact, you are _legally_ part of the Bishop family. Which is quiet _surprising_ actually—"

"What are you saying?" She cut off his rambling. She mouth twitched with remembrance of Peter's father doing the same thing—going off on tangents. _Walter_—she remembered—was always going on about something that should never be touched, or messed with—or even be possible.

He sighed, "He adopted you…before you—_disappeared_." He eyes trailed up to her face, expecting a shock look, but only gotten a cold stare back, "you don't believe me?" he stalked out, shocked by her—in more way than one.

"You aspect me to believe that?" she shot back at him, before scuffing, "Can we get to the point of me _being_ here?" she threw out into the air, for she didn't want to talk about what happened back then—she wanted to talk about the now.

"No." He was firm in the word, "We _need_ to talk about this, Ems." He didn't want her to turn away from this—the only family she had really started (and liked after her first family betrayal and the second to thirds—) to like and know, "I want us to be your family." He reached over to the woman's hand to comfort her. He needed her to know that—and that Walter was out of the asylum. The last time he brought him up to her in the past, she avoided the questions and statements like the plague, "But I can see that you're not ready," not giving her enough time to speak, "there's another thing…Walter's out." From past experiences with the woman before him; he knew that being direct was the only way to get through.

Emma sat there. Sat there thinking as the words sunk into her brain—twisting and configuring in different paths, "He's…" she paled a little bit tugging her hand out from his. The last time she had seen Walter was when he put her back into the system. What Peter was telling him was false, "No…none of this is true. _He_—put me into the system again. I didn't _run away_—why would I run away from the _best_ thing in my pathetic life?" She tried to explain. Walter didn't adopt her…no, not at all.

Peter looked confused, "No—"

But Emma was quicker, leaning over to him, "You didn't know half as much you think you do about what your father was into, Peter. So I won't go into it—but in no way would that _man_ ever let me stay with his _son_. I was just part of the twisting experiments, Bishop. We _all_ were." She leaned out of his space, to sigh.

The room grew quiet once again. The air hung still like frozen in time of the moment. The morning bird's chirps muffled through the kitchen as the two stared at each other once again—neither backing down. The sun tinted through the window over the sink and the sliding back door splashing its waves on any surface it could find.

"What did he do to you, Em?" Peter whispered the question feeling as though it was a dream and anything louder would shatter it to a nightmare of his worst enemies.

Emma was the first one to look away, her jaw moving under her skin in annoyance, "Take it up with him. I'm not telling you shit…can we please just get to why I'm really here for?" She finished softly. She would go back to her apartment…yes that apartment. The one where Henry had announced himself into her world on her birthday a couple years ago. She thought it would always come in handy—and here, she was right.

"Jenson. Right." He sighed, wiping a hand over his face. It was barely late afternoon and he was tired, "He was uhh," he cleared his throat more of things his father could have done to Emma. He didn't partially like her in the beginning—but she…_warmed_ something in him after a while. He would have to ask Walter was happened—that is if he remembered at all, "His head was cut off—clear shot like it was a mannequin." He cleared up for her, "there was only one witness—which is weird, but," he shook his head to keep on track, "what is more interesting was that he had no one around when his head rolled itself off his shoulders."

"So you're telling me," she clarified, "that his head—_without_ using a knife to open the wound—just sliced itself off his shoulders?"

He nodded.

"Well," she sighed, "what does this have to do with me?" Not liking where this was going for her.

He smiled, "How's your acting skills these days?"

* * *

March 19, 1986

Emma watched as they talked about where everything in the house was but she paid them little mind. She didn't want to meet their son. The last one—wasn't so pleasant to be around for long. She just wanted to be left alone on by her own advices. Yet, it was impossible for her still being too young, and hated by everyone she met.

Until—Walter, of course.

"'Ello Peter," Mrs. Bishop's voice rang sweetly into her head, throwing her out of her own minding thoughts. He was descending the stairs, slowly like a scared animal not familiar with the people around him, "Peter, this Emma Swan," the woman stated, before landing her arm around Emma's shoulder—but didn't notice her flinch at contact so early in the knowing process, "She'll be staying with us for a while, maybe even more. Wouldn't that be fun?" She dazzled a smile to her son hoping that he wouldn't frighten the girl. It had been months or so since Walter had snatched him from the other universe. It was still a bumpy roads some days—but they were getting there.

Peter's eyes glanced at the girls stiffening stance and just offered her a small smile. He knew how it felt, the uncomfortable situations, "You the girl that has no _known_ parents, right?" he questioned the girl; sealing their fate to bicker and harass each other.

"Peter!" Elizabeth gasped at her son, "You should never—"

"He's right," Emma cut through, "I don't have parents. They were bad people that left me for death. But I guess that would makes you a genius of figuring things out, since I am here without them in a stranger's house." She pointed out, leaving both adults stunned at Emma intellectual and snappy remarks. High above her education level and learning as well.

Peter smirked to himself, knowing that this was going to be fun, "Sure. Ems whatever." He dismissed the girl before turning up the stairs once again, his duty fulfilled for the day.

"It's Emma!" She shot back at him, leaving her with the last word of their non-existing conversation.

Point Emma. Zero Peter.

"Well dear."Walter watched amused by their behavior, "it seems that this is going to be fun." He turned away from them humming as he went into his study happily.

* * *

**Killian**

Killian didn't believe in things like luck; but he was certain that he found the jackpot of it.

When he had stormed out of Emma's apartment, he was going to find her if it was the last thing he would do. This statement is true but he had nowhere to start. So, he eventually called the help of Emma's lad to narrow it down with him. The realm was big compared to places he was once seen. They had pinpointed it to Boston, for Henry told him that when she first moved here someone packed her stuff and sent it to her here. That must have been the friend that had called this morning.

Which led him here at her old apartment building. When they had found about her still paying for it, Henry was surprised that she still had kept it paid in full all of these years. The poor lad panicked about her leaving him and StoryBrooke—for good. But Killian talked the lad down, providing that she could have just paid in full. Even if he didn't really believe it, or fully understand what that meant, he knew in his heart that was where she would go. He had taken a lot of time to travel to the city, since his boat could only get him so far—not like it did when he track her—uhmm—the Crocodile in New York City.

But nevertheless, he was here now. He made his way crossed the street being mindful of the vehicles on the road this time.

He broke into the building fast, through the back door—not wanting to alert his Swan that he was here…yet.

He strode up the stairs to her level. He breathed a sigh—controlling his excitement of seeing her …and to rifle her beautiful feathers once again. He could just imagine her face—full of shock, disbelief and anger. He counted off the doors till he met a door that was green with cursive black writing on it. Perfect for his Swan's taste.

He knocked.

* * *

**Swan**

Emma huffed at her luck at working with Bishop again. He had told her the plan of what she would do—with him. Nothing serious really; just being fake couple. A _fucking_ fiancée couple—on top of that—for an art show to which she hated. She tried to pull out of it; wondering how the hell that had to deal with Jenson. He only told her that it was because she knew the most about him—since she was the one that almost captured him—she would be able to pick out who would have a grudge against him the most. But arguing didn't help get her out of it at all.

_The. Worst. Excuse. Ever,_ Emma repeated mindlessly to herself. She knew that Peter had called her for what he found out about what Walter had gone and done. _Great_.

Peter also asked if she wanted to see Walter after they had finished talking about the plan. She shudder to a stop at the thought, and thoroughly declined the notion. Then she hightailed it out of there before he could think of changing her mind.

Now, all Emma wanted to do was fall into bed to sleep for days. After her conversation with Killian this morning, then Peter's confession of what could be called a big fat lie; she was mentally—and emotionally exhausted to the bone.

She grunted to the doorman, before climbing into the elevator. As the doors closed, she sighed tiredly while leaning on the back of the elevator to close her eyes for a short period. She knew once she was done—that she would go into a cabin in the woods alone to just deal with shit. _Yes, that's a plan_, she encouraged herself.

Once the doors opened she pulled her keys from her bag and unlocked her door. She just dropped her bags at the door to deal with them in the morning. Her headache was coming back now, full force with no small mercy—storming like a bitch. She walked down the hallway, pulling off her jacket to place it on the island in the kitchen. The lights were still dark but she had learned a long time ago to move within the dark for things.

She sighed, noticing a little too late a presence before a light was turned on from the little living room in front of her giving away to Killian's laid back form. Looking sexy as sin. A smirk was present of his face, applauding himself with breaking into her apartment and taking her off guard.

Her breath hitched in her throat at the sight of him here. She stood frozen in place like a statue. He couldn't be here with her, she didn't tell—or give him any indication of where she was going. But it was broken when his Irish lit broke through, knowing there was no way that she could ever prefect his voice inside her head as it just simply states, "'Ello, my Swan."

* * *

**AN**: so here we meet again...old friend. Haha...wow people like this? I'm surprised. But** I WOULD LOVE YOU GUYS MORE IF YOU REVIEW!?**!

**SPEACIAL THANKS TO**: kendra2608 (my new bestie :D), and ChamberlinofMusic!

**YOU GUYS ROCK OUT LOUD-IF I COULD-I WOULD GIVE YOU BOTH HUGS AND A COOKIE.**

** Cuz i kinda don't really bake that often.**

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**SNEAK PEAK**: (KEEP THIS UNDER HUSH, HUSH)

_A Bell rang around them surrounding them with its ding as the brightness fade to color around them, as a building came into view. _

_"Love?" Killian questioned._

_"Crap." Emma could only mutter to him._

_..._

_"Let go of me!" Henry screamed to the havens...to anyone...the god and the angels above. His father didn't know where he was...he knew in this moment-he should've left a note._


	5. Can't Pretend

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own anything

**WITHOUT FURTHER ADUE:**

* * *

**SO PAINT IT BLACK AND TAKE IT BACK**

_"Oh, feel our bodies grow,_

_And our soulds they blend._

_Yeah love I hope you know, _

_How much my heart depends."_

_Can't Pretend _by_ Tom Odell_

**.**

**Chapter 4**:_ Can't Pretend_

**_._**

**_._**

Peter walked into his house late that night with a heavy sigh falling from his mouth. He shut the door as quietly as he could, knowing that his daughter would be sound asleep upstairs. His wife however—would be waiting for him.

He had gone out to see if he could wrestle his father to come back home, but it had not worked. Though, it probably didn't help that he had brought up Emma in the conversation. Walter had frozen at the name before going off saying that he had worked to do and it must be done in the moment. Peter had looked at Astrid, who just shrugged telling him to go home and that she would take care of his father.

He fell back unto the entrance, sliding down till he was propped up by the door. He knew that this case would get to all of them—including Ems. He didn't mean to scare her with the information he had found, he really didn't. Yet; this was something that they would have to go over tomorrow when he got over to her apartment. He shook his head, never had he thought she was still this close to him after their last encounter.

"Hey." Olivia's voice whispered, startling him from his own bewildered thoughts. He must have looked as though, for she just smirked in the dim at him—his own goddess—then came set next to him, "How did it go?" she asked him.

Even in the small light, he could see that she was still wearing her button up from this morning and her slacks, but nothing on her feet, "Good, I guess." He turned his head away to look down the hallway to the darkened kitchen of where he only talked to Emma just hours ago, "She's—different." It was interesting that Olivia didn't remember this—_Emma_. Since…now that she remember most of what Walter and a little bit of Bell had done to her while working through it and all—she couldn't remember the one little girl that changed perhaps all of their lives.

"Well," A soft smile hung on her face, "they always are." She states before she laid a head on top of his shoulder.

He chuckled lowly, placing a hand on her upper thigh, "Yeah Liv. You got that right." He smiled into the darkness. Its feel covered them in a blanket of content as the house held silence of nothing but their beating hearts, "But," he started after a beat of comfortable companionship, "I don't know—it seemed something was troubling her…Liv." He had to tell her. Had to tell her what he had found out. He waited until her eyes found his—filled with love and question, "Walter he—" he sighed, never really knowing how to say this to her, "he adopted Emma. She's my legal sister." He finished in a hush tone afraid that it was just a joke.

"Peter." Olivia started.

"Yeah," He dismissed, before he kiss her forehead, "I know."

In all of what Walter had done to different people—could he have done something that could never be undone? What had he done to this Emma? Where did she go? And something stuck with him, which was: did he send her back into the system for shits and giggles even though he had already adopted the girl?

Olivia changed the direction, "Will you tell me about her?" she whispered, still not believing Peter's words that they had known each other when she lived in Jacksonville.

"Yeah. But I know you will know here once you meet her." He looked away making his head fall back to the doors surface, "she's—she was so…full of life." He chuckled at the description, "when I had remembered more of my childhood as you did—she was always there with a quip to say, waiting for any attack you threw at her. She was smart—very smart. She knew things that took me years later to know and she was only four at the time." He mouth twitched at the memories of Emma, "she was an enigma that couldn't be touch or beaten down. And beaten down she was once upon a time." He turned to his wife, "when she had just came into the household, the first time I saw her was bruises. At tops—a couple of days old, but she wore them like a battle won against an enemy."

"Sounds like a girl we could all admire." She smiled at his description of the girl that turned into a woman they needed now to finish the case, "Is she up for what we need her to do?"

He stayed silent for a moment, remembering the woman's refusal at first before gradually giving into his pleas, "Yes. But we'll have to work out the details. See what she knows about Jenson's problems of thieving and see if she knows what other people he would know. She knows a lot; since she did go after him."

"And you let him escape." She taunted slightly at her husband. She gently pushed her shoulders into his playfully.

He smirked, "Hey," he chuckled, "I didn't know that he was on bail. He gave me a lot of money to get him away so I didn't want nor ask his backstory."

She laughed tiredly, "I think it's time for bed."

He smiled as his wife got from her seat next to him to give him her hand, "Yes, exactly." His eyes twinkled with new curiosity.

Her head shook back and forth, "Oh no you don't. We have to meet Emma early." She reminded him.

"Hey, you started it." He sighed in mock-defeat. He knew she was right—they had to get a good enough sleep to meet Emma in the morning to go over things about their undercover opt.

"Well, allow me to finish it." She led him up the dark lit stairs by hand, into the bedroom. He just let her, knowing that tomorrow would come all too quickly in his book.

* * *

June 17, 1986

Emma was excited. She had been with the Bishops for a couple of months now. She shinned brightly after she got her footings placed right about herself in the family. Once she knew that they weren't going to hurt her in anyway—she blinded them with her shining hope and wonder about the world around her.

She was curious about things in the world. The beauty of it all was taken in. She questioned things—how, why, where, and what. All questions a budding four year old should be asking. For Walter—he watched amazed as the girl came out of her shell more and more each day before he was go to work at the 'daycare'. Today though, he wanted to expose Emma to others. He had the prefect group to expose her to as well.

So he load up both her and Peter into the car after bidding his wife goodbye for the day while promising her that everything would be fine. Yet she held still, she was afraid about things going wrong with the meeting of those other he works on. In such a short time, his wife had grown quiet attached to the little girl. He had to remind her that it wasn't a permanent situation for he had plans. Yet she would could back with saying 'it could be.'

He watched the back seat from the rearview mirror as the two children were stuck in a battle of anything that held their interest long enough. He was glad that they had gotten along, but in the pit of his stomach he was concerned what he was going to do to come back onto his son—distancing himself again. But he but that on the back burner, for now to think of only where they were headed.

Emma's giggles of delight filled Walter's ears. He smiled besides himself at the magical ring to their notes.

...

The car pulled up into a parking slot in front of the daycare center. Children of different ages played among the swings and playscape. Their laughter and shrieks of mock terror filling the warm air of Jacksonville Florida morning.

Emma pulled her seat belt off and was out of the car to Peter's side within seconds. In the last couple of months—even though they would bicker like brother and sister, Emma always made sure that she was close to him…like a body guard of some sort. He lightly grasped her hand unconsciously as he made his return into the building once again. He remembers slowly of a girl—Dunham—had gone missing a couple months back, before he found her in a field of white tulips. A burned scorched mark still sizzling around her. But he ignored that part, wondering if he would see her again.

"Welcome, Emma." Walter told her brightly as he walked through the halls of the building ot his office to put his briefcase down on his table, "Why don't we have a tour?"

The tour only last so long before Emma decided that there was something Walter was not telling him. It must have been big—but she knew that he was lying when he had answered her question not right away.

* * *

Killian & His Swan

Emma stood stalk still as Killian just slowly got up from his seat to make his way over to her. His Swan. He was going to make her his if it was the last thing he ever see to. His new modern clothes doing nothing but make him sexier than any sin in the dammed realm. He had let the couple top buttons of his baby blue button up lay open to give away to his chest hair with the necklace he never took off. Nice dark jeans clung to his long legs as they traveled to Emma.

Yet she couldn't move for the life of her. She was stunned, firstly. Secondly, she was tried and hoped that if she didn't acknowledge this possible hallucination, it didn't exist. Yet, she knew in her very soul that he had found his way here for her, "How did you get in? What are you doing here?" She lamely questioned him which at least made him just stop a barely two feet from her.

_Talk about a no breather_, she thought as she looked at him.

He just smirked at her questions, "Really Swan? That is how you're going to play this, love?" He watch amused as her eyes filtered what he said while ignoring her nervous questioning for now. He wanted her now. He knew where the bedroom was in the apartment since he walked through it…hopeful of seeing her naked sleeping. But once he had found the place empty he began to worry, but he held to his gut and stayed put—which he was right to do.

She crossed her arms, "Play what?" she questioned. If he wasn't going to talk about it first then neither would she. She played him the challenge he always loved about her.

He chuckled darkly, while his sinful Irish lit moved with his stance—into her personal space, "Well love, you promised me we'd talk when your work was finished, lass. But you weren't there." He could see her breath hitch a little, making his heart beat like a storm in his chest. He wanted to feel her under him once again, to feel her breath hitch from his mouth on certain parts of her body. It had been a while since he did; he was addicted to her, everything about her entranced something deep within him to move and touch her burning flame. Even only standing this close, his fingers itched with the feel of her creamy skin underneath him.

Her eyes never waved from his, "I wasn't really going to talk to you after work. I just told you that to make you go away." She snapped, "And I'm most definitely not your _'love'_." She seriously didn't want to go into this—not right now. Her headache was coming back once again as she rubbed her temple to will it away.

"Oh but you are, love," He watched as she rubbed her temple, "'light Swan?" he voice dripped with concern that made Emma look at him like a deer meeting her hunter wide eyed, "yeah, fine." He mumble answer barely made up to the really worthy response, "what do you want to talk about?" she questioned him.

He just stayed silent for a second, "We need to talk about…us, love." He stated.

"Can't we first start with how the _hell_ you got in?" She shot back, ignoring the question and the subject completely, "And—how _did_ you find me?"

"Pirate." Killian simply put out for her, stepping closer to her. She moved back as if a sworn dance of their relationship, "and you're not that hard to find, Swan." He states once he has her locked within between his body and the counter top of the kitchen. There was no escape she could take to flee until he was good and ready to let her go. She sighed.

"Okkkay so—" His lips where on hers before she could even finish what she was going to say. They we're forceful and demanding; same as last time but this time it a brought an undertone of passion—love even. It was too much for Emma, that she gasped and moved her away from his sinful mouth that burned her skin since the first time it met it.

Killian took advantage of her overwhelmed state to make his way down her chin, to the side of her neck. There he drew out moans from his Swan as he marked her with butterfly kisses and sucking of her skin. He missed those sounds that she would make from his touch. His other hand pulled her closer to him flush. He wanted her naked once again, but not yet.

He growled, sending shivers down Emma spine like a welcoming hand. She loved when he lost control like this-yet she knew it wasn't the time. Yet. He pulled away reluctantly which earned him a surprised moan of pretest from Emma, "You were saying, love?" he asked playfully; darkly in Irish lilt that was making itself more pronounced. His ocean blue eyes swarmed with barely chained desire, "For even if you aren't fully yet. Your body is."

"Killian." She warned him, "_We_—I—"

He unhooked his arm around from her, angry as he stepped back a couple of feet as if she had burned him—maybe she had, "Bloody hell—you're back with him aren't you, Swan?" of course, he would get in between him and his Swan.

"No—" that was the only confirmation he needed before locking his lips to hers once again. Emma hummed a laugh out at her pirate—wait her pirate? "Killian," she groaned into his mouth, breathless, "We need to talk about this." She tiredly explained. This—she couldn't handle this—right now. Not with everything else happening around her as well. But maybe she does? Maybe she needs a little more chaos to add to the bunch to make it sane. Yet, it was something she would look back on later in life and believed she had done the right thing.

Going through with what was important right now.

Which wasn't making like rabbits with the pirate.

She laughed out loud when he groaned in response to hers, "Killian…stop."

He did sadly, "Of course love." His voice was darker, giving away his painfully desire. He brought his hand up to finger her hair away from her face, "You look tried, Emma." Her hair felt like silk through his fingers wishing he could tighten them in her locks and pull her hair to move her head to the side. But he refrained—_barely._

"I am." She yawned, nodding to Killian before launching herself into his arms, surprising the pirate. She snuggled into his neck, "thank you for finding me." She whispered in fear he would disappear just like everyone else had in her life.

He hummed a, 'you're welcome' which vibrated though his chest, making Emma tingle at the feel. His arms tightened around her, knowing that their talk was going to have to wait until the morning. His Swan was too beat but she did make the first step to finding out what they were—together.

"Aren't you gonna take me too bed?" She mumbled to him.

He chuckled but followed her instructions by lifting her up into his arms and carried her to the bedroom for well needed rest for his Swan. Loving her would wait—for now. Later would be enough time for that. Next, he would have to find out why she was doing here in the first place and if he could help it; would help her in any way he can.

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**AN**: **DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!** thank you kendra2608 for reviewing! it helps a lot for me!

**SNEAK PEAK FOR KISS MY GENTLE BURNING BRUISE:**

"help! Open up!" Henry slammed his fist onto the entrance of the building. He was scared, "Come on!" A light above startled the night as it flickered on.

...

They walked down the hallway, noise of the high school fulling around them safely.

"So whose he?" Killian asked.

"A pain in my ass." she mumbled to the group.

They all stayed where they were, stunned, "she started it." Emma stated as the younger version walked away.


	6. Alone Together

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own anything!

**WITHOUT FURTHER ADUE**:

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**SO PAINT IT BLACK AND TAKE IT BACK**

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_**"**I don't know where you're going_

_But do you have room for one more troubled soul?_

_I don't know where I'm going but I don't think I'm coming home_

_And I said I'll check in tomorrow if I don't wake up dead_

_This is the road to ruin_

_And we're starting at the end"_

-Alone Together by Fall Out Boy

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**Chapter 5**: _Alone Together_

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**_Swan & Killian_**

Killian watched as Emma slept next to him. Her hair sprawled out onto her pillow like rays of sunshine in the dark. He watched as her breath flowed through her body, then out and tingling his chest and arms. He missed this. He missed being able to watch his Swan sleep peacefully next to him, centering him from within. He had never felt that kind of peace with Milah, he noted mindfully. In the past couple of months, he started to think that Milah could have just been a milestone to him meeting Emma Swan. His fingers curled themselves around her face as she subconsciously leaned into it. This made him smirk.

He carefully got off the bed not to wake her from slumber, as he moved to the door and out, leaving only a little crack to make sure Emma knew that he was still here. His thoughts turned to poor Henry, out of his mind with worry for his mother. He felt sorry for the boy, and had come to think of Henry just a miniature Emma in ways.

He made his way quietly over to his satchel to pull out the device Henry had handed him before leaving the small town. It was colder here—in the apartment then hers back in StoryBrooke, making him shiver in his half dress body. He knew that it could be for there was no love here—for Emma. Not like at home.

_Home._

There's something he would have never thought he would be saying once again. His home was mostly on his beloved Jolly Roger for centuries. Yet, since he had met her, he was pulled to her more of a centralized home.

He sighed with peace of finding her once again. When he had found out that she wasn't in town—his heart stopped for a couple of beats. He was surprised that Bae didn't jump to it when the town went searching for her. That ticked him off—Baelfire not going to look for the mother of his only child. But he just kept that in the back of his mind to deal with that piece of information at a later time in date.

He pressed the keys of Henry's number—one that was given to him so they could find him without worry. It came in handy more than he would like to admit.

"_'ell'o_?" can a groggy sounding Henry.

Killian cursed at himself for not looking at the time. It was well past the lads bedtime, "'Ello there, Henry." He spoke softly to the lad, not to frighten him out of his sleepy state, "I just wanted to let you know, I've found her, lad. She's fine." He spoke quickly knowing that the boy would ask millions of questions fast if he didn't answer him fast enough.

"_You found her?!_" Henry exclaimed happily. He could imagine the lad jumping up and down which brought a smile to his face. Over the phone, Killian could hear a door open and muffled sounds of some shuffling, "_It's Killian! He found her!_" The lad exclaimed to—Killian guessed—was Emma's parents, "_when are you coming home? Is she alright? How come she left?"_ the boy started to rattle off to the pirate captain fast as lightening.

"Whoa, lad," he chuckled, shaking his head at the boys' questions, "She's fine. She's here in Boston—"

"_'Kay. I'll be there in a couple of hours._" Henry cut in, to which he could hear strong protest from both David and Mary-Margret over the phone. He had to agree with them, no matter if he loved the boy like his own…he had—no, _needs_—time with his Swan. _Alone._ They needed to figure out what they were, with nothing that could distract her.

"No, lad," he spoke stern, a command. Not a request, "I should say it would be better if you stayed with your grandparents…I'll figure it why she's here. She won't tell me anything if you are here Henry." He hoped that he would get through to the boy. He didn't want to go through this with him here. He knows in his soul that it wasn't a good thing Emma had come back here.

The lad was silent on the phone a beat, "_Okay._" He said dejected but filled with understanding, "_Just keep me—I mean, all of us, updated_." He turned quiet, "_Make sure you bring her back to me, Killian._"

It was a plea.

A plea of a still growing boy wanting to not be abandoned.

His heart stretched to comfort the boy, but he could hear shuffling from the bedroom. There was no time for coddling the lad. _Later_, Killian reminded himself, _when the lad is woken up more_, "I will, lad. I promise. I'll make sure that she calls." It wasn't really a promise since Emma Swan did what she wanted yet, he knew that she didn't mean to make the boy worry.

"_Thanks."_ The lad states before hanging up, leaving Killian to stand still to hear where his Swan was off to.

Her feet shuffled across the floor boards in the hallway. She had woken up to Killian not being next to her. She knows that her mind was playing tricks on her; he wouldn't be able to find her. She's in a world that is huge, bigger than anyone of the realms he had been to. Farther once you add that part of technologies that he has never seen before.

Yet, she could shake the feeling of being in his arms as he brought her to the bedroom. Her skin tingled with familiarity. She could remember talking to him, before passing out. Was it all just a fantasy? She had seen worse—_been_ through worse…come on! Her parents are _fucking_ Snow White and Prince Charming for Christ's sake! If this wasn't some type of reality she should have been committed to an asylum long ago.

Her mind must have played a horrible game on her…she was tired; she tried to convince herself. She was tried from talking to the bastard Bishop. _God; life sucks_, she thought as she trudged herself to the kitchen. She knows that she's only had a couple of hours of sleep, but she knew that Peter was going to be here soon for more details of what we are going to do.

She flipped on the lights for the kitchen only thought was to get some coffee going in her blood. She jumped in shock when she saw someone standing by the island of the kitchen. His eyes locking onto hers, ocean blue clashing with sea foam green, "Are you real?" she wasn't sure anymore. She needed to be reminded. He wasn't here. He couldn't have found her—this quickly, no less.

Could he?

"Oh, lass," He chuckled darkly, "I assure you, I am very much _real._" His Irish lilt dance in the room playfully.

_Son of a bitch,_ she thought, "What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

He chuckled to himself, _same old Swan_, "Well…it seems you're having a little trouble remembering since you were almost dead on your feet. So I'll forgive you…this time, love." He winked and before she knew it, he was right in front of her. She didn't know how the hell he could move that fast, but it both annoyed and fascinated her, "You left without talking to anyone."

"So?" she shot back. His presence was messing with her snappy comeback seriously. She needed him to back up before she did something she would regret.

Or enjoy.

He huffed out, his patience wearing thin. He was not necessarily mad at her, but the people who made her this way—thinking that she was alone in the world, "Henry."

Her breath hitched. Low blow, "_Shit_." Her shoulders sagged with new found weight of that one word alone. How the hell did she forget about Henry? Her son, "God he must be a mess." She mumbled out rubbing her face with guilt. Peter had called so suddenly that she totally forgot about everything—well, other than getting away from this pirate and her going to kick Bishop's ass to Kingdom Come.

"Don't worry, love. I just talked to him…he's fine now that he knows where you are." He told her to calm down her fraying nerves. She paled at the statement, "But don't worry. I told him to stay put." He smirked before it pained when she punched him in his arm, "What the bloody hell was that for?" He narrowed his eyes. Coming closer to brush noses with her—something she didn't want, "Although," his eyes glinting with an undertone of lust, "I could get behind _punishment_."

She wasn't the one to squeal but he took her off guard by wrapping his arms around her, pulling her flush to him.

"God you're _incorrigible_." She breathed out with an eyes roll to the heavens.

He just chuckled, nuzzling into her neck to breathe her in. He definitely missed this, since she was gone. He missed the feel of her body next to him. In that moment he froze slightly, the realization hitting like a ton of bricks. He was in love with Emma Swan. Deeply, helplessly in love with his Swan. His heart leaped at the thought of it, breaking out in a big goofy smile.

"Okkayy." Emma started slow, "what's up with you? Found something to steal while here?" She questioned his sanity. He was too close to her, too close. Her comebacks where slipping in their punch, lacking from his touch. '_Danger, danger_,' warned her in her head. He was up to something, and she didn't like it. She needed space to deal with things—yet the pirate can't get to inches away from her. _Bloody pirate_, her thoughts shot back at her some consciously sounded like the man himself.

He chuckled deep, nuzzling her neck once again. Love; who would have thought? "Yes," he grumbled out darkly with his accent pouncing unto her skin like a second layer making her shiver in his arms, "_you._" A low growl started in him before his lips attacked her shoulder forcefully blowing out the air from Emma.

She gasped. _This was definitely new_, she thought, "Killian." She moaned out when he found a weak spot of hers, "We…" _he was good at this,_ she thought as her train of thought disappeared, "We…uhm," her eyes tightened in concentration, "we can't right now." She sighed as he huffed away—straining to listen to her silent command. She didn't want to get into it until they talked, which he had to agree with.

He nodded, pulling reluctantly away from her, "You're right, love." He looked into her sea foam green eyes, "We need to talk though." He told her sternly. He wanted no mistakes this time. They will talk, "Firstly what are you here for, love?" he questioned. He had to know what had drawn her here once again. He knows that it would have to be about the guy on the phone call.

"Well…" she shifted away from him to the fridge needing a drink to sooth her dry throat, "It's kinda complicated." She finally decided on telling him. It was just a little too hard to explain all of it at once.

"Well, we got the time in the world, Emma." Killian leaned into her, he wanted to know. That is all he wanted to do—he even said her name. Inside of him his heart leaped at it, knowing that he will be saying it like a chant so enough. A mantra of some sort. He thought that name alone could get him through anything; it fit her perfectly as well.

_Universal._ Emma. It rolled off his tongue like fine rum. He hummed it to himself softly.

He smirked as she opened the fridge for a drink of something giving him a nice view of her ass, "Love?" He silently pleading her to not turn this around on him.

"Yeah, yeah." She mumbled out before taking a drink of the bottle of water she had taken out, "Its…"she started. Yet, she didn't know where to start, "Well…" She scratched her head, thinking of anything to say, Killian waited patiently for her to say more.

"Love," He started once seeing that she wasn't going to finish, "let's just start at the beginning…Who was the man that called you—a Bishop?" He inquired.

"He's a—friend." She answered after a beat. It wasn't a good reply but it was the only thing she could come up with right now. Since, she still had to figure out if Bishop was telling her the truth she would keep the little tidbit of being his sister. It would end up making more questions for the pirate to ask, ones that she didn't really want to dwell on—yet.

His eyes rose, but he chose to let the battle go for now. At least she was answering them now, "…'light love. Now," he leaned over the island into her space, "why are you here?"

She gulped. It was a question she was asking herself a lot in the past couple of hours, "I don't know." She answered him truthfully as she could, "I will make my way back to StoryBrooke when I can—"

"_Emma_." His anger boiling at her thinking of him leaving her here—in this cold place, "I'm leaving alone. Either I stay and help you with what is going on or I'm going to drag you back home. And we know that I never back down from a fight." His eye were ablaze at the thought she would think that he would leave. He made a promise to a boy—and one he most definitely, was going to keep.

She huffed out a sigh looking anywhere but the man in front of her, "Alright. Bishop. His name is Peter. He asked me to help him with something that I didn't even want to do. It's not my job anymore. We have to capture some guy who killed a guy that I was after back in the day," She shook her head, "He's not my friend," Her eyes locked with the pirates electric blues wanting to tell him the truth in which what Peter was to her, "Peter. He was _never_ a friend of mine. His father Walter," She didn't know why she started to open her mouth, it felt like it was just pouring out, "was one of my foster parents. One of many," she added guardedly, "He is also one of the main reason I'm _so_ fucked up." Her eyes closed shut as if to ward off the tears she knows is coming, she felt it then. The tightening in her chest made it hard for her to breathe properly. Her laugh of bitterness was starched with bubbles of watery breaths.

Killian was over to her in a second to warm her into his arms. He lovingly rubbed a hand over her back to sooth her, but it was too late. Her tears feels against his unclothed chest that it made his heart constrict with sadness for his Swan, "Shh," he tried to calm her down. It made him nervous that she could stand up to anyone that threatened her, yet break with the slightest thing such as her past. His jaw set itself tightly behind the skin, "it's okay love. I'm here." He took the opportunity to kiss her on the temple willing her own worst nightmares away.

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**September 24, 1986**

Emma was running for her life.

Literally.

Her feet wobbled and wouldn't step far enough for her legs to take her. They hurt as well as her own lungs burned with the chilled air of the coming fall. Yet, she couldn't for the life of her stop to try and catch her breath. It ached into her chest painfully from the will of her spirit but she preserved through it. Her only mission was getting far enough that they would have to slow down.

The sun had gone into hiding long ago, reviving the moons cold shine onto the forest of death's presence. It lit up the woods, giving away her escape from the building known too quickly for her liking. The shouts of guards and Mr. Himmler could be heard from behind, men coming down the hill after her. They had guns, big ones as they followed, bullets flying by missing her by seconds. This is what she was resulted to: fleeing for her life.

She missed Peter.

In that sentence she really wished he was her brother. He would be here to protect her. Even if they didn't get along, he hated when someone spoke down to her in a demeaning way. This was one of those times.

Yet, it didn't matter. She didn't belong to the Bishops no longer. She was alone. He had sent her back into the unforgiving foster home. She felt betrayed but at the same time, foolish to think a family like that would actually wanted to keep her for more than a couple of months. A foolish trying to even think such things a child would. There was no such thing as a childhood. She would never have a childhood where people would cherish her like the other kids parents at her school did. She knew and hated her own parents forgiving her up before even knowing her. But she pushed those thoughts away. She didn't need to think about that as of right now.

"STOP GIRL!" one of them yelled, but she didn't listen to it.

She should have.

She didn't see the cliff before it was too late to stop and jumped off of it into the abyss of freezing water below. She held her breath yet it didn't help against the pricks of the water fighting to get into her mouth. The cold stabbed at her, the current pulling her and twisting her with the tides. The breath in her lungs burned for new oxygen, but she didn't let it go.

She was going to die.

That was what she knew.

But somewhere inside, she bothered to care, pushing back with as much as force as she possibly could to get to the surface of the water. She breathed a hefty gasp as she breached the surface, the dark sky mocking her near death experience. She used her strength to get through the tides to the beach. It took seemingly hours for the girl, the sun breaking its head over the horizon on the ocean.

She collapsed onto the beach, fearing nothing just thankful that she had gotten out.

**...**

"Sir, we couldn't find the girl. She fell over the cliff." One of the guards told the man.

The man stood tall in the room, his eyes facing the window as the sun's rays filled the cold room with its warmth, "She's alive." He turned to the guard, "She's a fighter. Find her…bring her back." He commanded.

"Yes, Dr. Bishop."

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**Peter & Olivia**

"Peter, are you sure we are at the right place?" Olivia asked her husband as her eyes trailed up the apartment building in the morning sun.

They wanted to get over to Emma's early—which it was. They knew that traffic did delay them a little getting here but it was going to be worth it. They had talked about what they would go over with Emma on the drive to the apartment. They knew that it was not a full-blown plan to go undercover but it was the only one they had.

Peter just chuckled at his wife's uncertainty, "Yeah, come on." He said before making his way into the building to one Emma Swan.

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**AN:** So as you all know, I'm back at college. I will update this and my other story mostly on the weekends or Thursdays-but I could always sneak another one in on Mondays. So...never mind. I will be near Kindle HD, so if you guys have anything to ask me, go ahead and send me a message...I will answer it! :D

**SPECIAL THANKS**: ChamberlinofMusic and kendraCs

**For Reviewing!**

You guys don't know how much I appreciate you reviewing my stories! Makes me do the jig. -.-

**PLEASE REVIEW: I WILL MAKE A SPECIAL-I don't know yet, but if you REVIEW-you never know what I'll do;)**

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**SNEAK PEAK** of KMGBB (SHHH...it's a secret:)...I'm giving you guys BIG ONES TOO)

_"Do you always have to get yourself in trouble?" Charlie asked_

_Emma just shrugged grunting a short dismissive response, "I guess it's more fun that way," she tilted her face to the side to flash him a purely innocent smile, "so why are you here? Following me?" she inquired._

_..._

_"HENRY!" Ruby shouted into the cold air of the unforgiving night. This had gone from bad to worse._

_Henry was missing. He was gone. In less than 24-hours too._

_He was there only chance of keeping this place sane, without him...Ruby didn't want to think of what would happen._

_..._

_Neal walked down the street to his father shop. He didn't like it there, but he knew what he could use to help him get what he wanted._

_Maybe he was more of his father than he realized in him._

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**Ta ta for now. BUT I WILL BE BACK;) **

**YOU GUYS ARE MY FAMILY. SO...kinda can't run...more like, I family that I CAN chose. But you know what I mean...**

**k, seriously leaving now.**

**bye,**

**PEANUT**


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